Chapter 13

The Prince

Pravado looked bleaker in the morning light. The damages done by the Phantom Knight were brought into sharp relief as reconstruction crews took to the streets to begin their work. It was a sign that while the clinic had settled down in the night, there was still devastation left in the man’s wake.

For Terrill, it was a reminder of all they had to lose by failing here.

Thus, in those early morning hours, the group had packed their bags (or given Floyd one) and waited for the gate to open once more. It only did when Warren and a contingent of four troops were ready and waiting on the other side.

“Hold on, Torry. We’re comin’,” Floyd said, tightening the straps around his shoulders. Terrill nodded, taking the lead towards Warren, while Walter marched in time with Floyd’s step. It took a time for the boy to notice. “Wait, you’re coming with us?”

“It would seem my quarry lies in Invaria. I trust you have no problems with me tagging along, Terrill?” He waved off the matter, which seemed to frazzle Floyd more than anyone else, as he began grumbling and mumbling. “Oh, come now, I’m sure we can find some way to get along.”

“I’d rather shower with a bear.” Floyd’s extreme alternative noted, Terrill left the bickering duo to their devices as he and Krysta joined with the Invarian troops. To no surprise, Warren eyed them with suspicion, one that Terrill returned after the pain in his arm the previous night.

“We make over the mountain pass,” the general informed them, his men at continual attention. “It is only a two-day journey as we’ve made it, and then we are at the capital’s doorstep. Try not to die.”

The way he said it, Terrill began to believe he almost wanted them to die.

People went missing before they could ever meet with the Crown Prince, Terrill mused. Warren took point, his broad shoulders seeming like they took up more of the street than they did. I wonder if our esteemed general had anything to do with that. He seems like a man who would revel in war…

Terrill kept those thoughts to himself, even from Krysta, who rubbed the bleary sleep from her eyes while they climbed, her night of work having exhausted her. At least, Terrill considered, she’d gotten a jacket out of it, returning his own clothing to him. That came as no surprise; their own progression through North Pravado was met with many well-wishes of the citizens who sped them along, glad to have someone negotiating an end to the tensions. They wanted them to make it to Invaria safely, and to those encouragements, the soldiers hung their heads in disgrace.

Said soldiers, it turned out, were prone to reticence, though Terrill also considered it the side effect of climbing the Carzentaurian Mountains.

While a path was carved through the treacherous peaks and over the ravines that spanned between them, the trip remained difficult. Although, Terrill began to believe that part of it was him being stuck between the arguing Floyd and Walter (who seemed to have taken Terrill’s usual role with the redhead) and being entirely suspicious of Warren. It didn’t help that the man showed absolutely no signs of fatigue, even when they needed to stop to rest for the evening at a rather comfortable shelf that looked perfect for camping.

“The trip downhill is easier. I would prepare myself.” Warren’s curt instructions were noted, but Terrill had the urge to not follow them. The general had done nothing but cast scathing frowns at him their whole trip.

“I wouldn’t pay attention to the general,” a soldier piped up when Warren had left the campsite to survey the path ahead. Terrill was on his guard, torn between listening to the soldier and following Warren to see if he would prepare some kind of trap. The former won out as the man continued talking, Terrill finding him as amiable as those in Valorda. “He’s a man wholly devoted to the craft, and sometimes that means a love of war. His duty compels him to bring those who would meet with the prince to his liege, but his heart is never in it. He probably hopes you’ll be turned away.”

“And what about you?” Terrill asked, dropping his pack on the stone and sitting against it. He kept an eye trained to the side where Warren had disappeared, but tried to relax; no good would come of worrying unless something came to pass. “What do you want for Invaria?”

“Not war,” a gruffer man explained. He appeared to be the pack mule, dropping all of the soldiers’ valuables for their trip with a clang that echoed on the mountainside. With a throat clearing, the man sat upon the pack. “You’re stationed in Pravado long enough, you come to realize the countries are better off with each other than locked in combat. The people don’t want it, either.”

“Sadly, wars are fought by the people, but decided by others.” Krysta’s words had a different weight to them than usual. Perhaps it was a result of seeing her the night before, but Terrill felt the heaviness exude from her. No one else noticed, certainly not Floyd and Walter (the former of whom was trying to cordon off a space for himself), but Terrill could see her gray eyes clouding over. That old wound she had hidden seemed to have resurfaced. “Why does Invaria wish to go to war?”

The soldiers were unsure how to answer, or maybe they knew the answer but were fearful of saying it. The quartet of Invarians shared glances between them, more than a couple pairs darting over to where Warren had disappeared, until they leaned in. Intrigued, Terrill matched them so he could hear better.

“It’s because the country’s naval defenses are failing.”

“Naval defenses? You mean like ships and stuff?” Terrill asked, but received vigorous shakes of the head in response.

“Nah, see, the country is a naval nation. We have ground forces like ourselves, but they protect the southern towns and the capital. The real might of our military is in the navy, and Font of Water.” Terrill tilted his head, sliding over to Krysta. There was little doubt both interpreted the same thing from the mysterious name being shared. “But lately, the Font of Water on Niveus, according to rumor, has been acting up. The Council is making it hush hush, but we’ve started to see the signs trickling down to the capital.”

Another soldier bent low, coming near Krysta with his advances. She hopped over to Terrill, but listened intently while the man spoke. “How much do you know of Invaria’s geography?”

“Very little,” Krysta said with a nervous laugh. He took that as permission to proceed, digging into the pack the soldier sat upon for any utensil. Once he had it, he began drawing in the stone, parting the dust there to make a shape.

“Hey, that looks like the whatchamathingy on a sword,” Floyd said, his voice loud as he entered their discussion. Walter had won their argument, lounging against what was previously Floyd’s space with a triumphant grin. Terrill considered both petty and preferred the lesson.

“You’re so educated, Floyd. I take it this is…?”

“Gladius. Well, northern Gladius,” the soldier explained as he marked more spots off. Sure enough, it looked like the guard and grip of a sword that extended up past the mountains they were presently on. The small stretch of land leading up to it was filled in by a big circle. “The lands that fly the banner of Invaria. As you can see, lots of peninsulas, so we have lighthouses set up. Because the country is so water-based, the navy naturally sprang up as our primary defense. But then…”

A different soldier took the drawing tool, and with it, made wide swirls just north of both the largest circle and the point indicating the western lighthouse. He tossed it back. “The whirls started off the coast, and our navy was split up. The largest part of our fleet is still back home, ready to ship out, but anything at Niveus can’t get past the whirlpools that appeared. It’s so rough, people can’t even see the lighthouse, so they started naming it Chaos Tower.”

“And this is all from this ‘Font’ of yours going wild?” Terrill asked. None of the soldiers had the accuracy of truth, each shrugging and presenting it as their best guess. He wanted to ask more, but the familiar clank indicated Warren’s return, and the soldiers brushed the design away, making to look busy.

“The path ahead seems clear. No rockslides for now,” Warren told them. His eyes lingered on Terrill, like he was daring the Guardian to challenge him. Terrill just turned away and scoffed; he had no desire to start a fight. However, the absence of any issue made him more suspicious, and he kept an eye on the general for the entire night.

He never took it off in the morning, either, when they began their descent to the heart of Invaria. The soldiers’ words about Warren being a warmonger helped in no way to abate his concerns. But when another day had passed, and morning came a third time since they departed, the sight of the striking capital that was Invaria eased Terrill’s fears.

“Welcome to the aquapolis, Invaria, Sir Guardian.” The snicker with which Warren had said it did not stop the awe.

The soldiers looked grateful to be home, and Walter was amused. For Terrill, Floyd and Krysta, though, the three stood on the edge of the hill overlooking the capital Invaria with mouths wide open.

“You could…this is like twenty times more elaborate than Serotin!” Floyd grabbed Terrill’s arm, shaking it while he tried to absorb the sight before him. “Terrill, can you imagine a city bigger than Serotin?”

“Yeah, it’s called Valorda. Get off.” Floyd refused to, and soon Krysta had grabbed Terrill’s other arm. He decided to give in and overlook this beautiful location together.

Where Valorda had the feel of a fortress town, landlocked on all sides as an impenetrable bastion, Invaria was bound only by the sea that bordered it, providing a natural chokepoint to northern Gladius. Ports were on both sides, though the choppier seas to the east made it less populated than the western one. Bridges and walkways extended from the ports to the city proper, where even more rivers than had run through Valorda formed the base of the capital. If the waterway in Valorda had been complex, it was nothing on this shining city, glistening from the sun off the water. It was colder there, but the people in town didn’t wear any furs or other associated clothing, and Terrill could see that no one in the capital lived a life in want of luxury.

Fanning out from that entry bridge over a river, the capital worked on the turning waterwheels. Lakes pooled throughout the city, feeding the rivers that was the lifeblood of this place, and that of the navy. Merchant ships appeared to visit often, as well, noted by those in the western harbor offloading their cargo and delivering it to the marketplaces within the city proper. Terrill’s eyes couldn’t help but bounce all over, never finding one thing to fixate on. Soon as he glimpsed the fountains that shot into the air from time to time, his eyes were back on the rivers that coursed southward.

It paled in comparison to the palace.

This one put even the Valordan castle to shame, with its shining blue scales that reflected the sun and magnificent arches. There were no turrets or ramparts or anything Terrill expected from looking at his own country’s castle or the one in Valorda, but the palace was a marvel of architecture in the best of ways. Invaria, truly, was a beautiful place.

A place on the brink of war, no less, if the marching soldiers indicated right.

“Come,” Warren barked, refusing to wait around any longer. He hadn’t been pleased in the first place, and Terrill thought it best to not ignore him. They tromped down the hill, and within moments were crossing the bridge into Invaria.

The chatter of the people surrounded them, making the city feel like a proper capital to Terrill. There were fishsellers and dockworkers all mashed together, and Terrill resisted his urge to explore this unknown place. If he hadn’t, Terrill knew he would have lost sight of Warren, who kept a brisk pace on the road. To Terrill, that road was more like a carpet, stretching up the lane to the beautiful palace. Now inside the city, it struck Terrill even more.

“Is that a waterfall?!” Floyd shouted, louder than anyone wanted him to. Walter whacked him from behind for his outburst, but Floyd hadn’t been wrong. There was a waterfall, if manufactured, pouring from above the Invarian palace and into an unseen pool behind it.

“Hurry up!” Warren snapped, his displeasure making Terrill further pick up the pace. Krysta, did, as well, but she looked as though she’d smelled something foul and said nothing regarding the palace’s beauty. The soldiers that had accompanied them split off at different intervals, perhaps to see family or report in to their direct superior officers, but they each gave a kind wave as they departed. Terrill was glad to see that the tension between the two nations didn’t defer kindness.

“Have you heard?” a voice called from a street closest to the palace once the last of their escort (sans Warren) had left. “Supposedly, Valorda has marshalled a huge host and is moving for the mountains.”

“I hear they’ve closed the gates around their capital.”

“Do you think they’re about to make a strike?” a woman asked, her shrill voice grating at Terrill’s ears. It would have been more palatable if it wasn’t bearing such disturbing information. “If they make it over Carzentaurian, our aquapolis won’t stand a chance.”

“Our navy would blow them out of the water first!” a young man countered, he and his band snickering. “Even with their fortress of a capital, our long-range cannons would break through!”

“Hush, now! No one wants a war. Least of all Prince Ricardo. We have to have faith that he and the council will make the appropriate decisions.”

“Man, seems they really trust their prince,” Floyd said when the chatting nobles (or so Terrill surmised from their dress) had faded out of earshot. “Guess that’s what authority does for you. People trust you to make the right decisions all the time. Seems like such a hassle.”

“You could learn a thing or two about that,” Terrill chastised the boy, receiving a grin in response.

Their group was nearly upon the palace and Warren looked beyond ready to be rid of them, not even stopping to return the salutes offered to him by the officers and palace guardsmen. Terrill sighed, but didn’t try to catch up; at this point, it was an obvious straight shot to the center of the palace, and the letter was all he needed to get inside.

“Well, fun as this all has been,” Walter said from behind, and Terrill stopped to face him, “I’m afraid I’ll take my leave of the group about now.”

“Is it Floyd?” Terrill asked, cracking his own grin in the boy’s direction. “It usually is. Don’t worry, Walter, I know he can be annoying, but he’s a good guy underneath it all.”

“Droll, but inaccurate.” Walter heaved his bag up, clearing his throat to make sure his words would not be misunderstood. “No, I just have no party with the prince, and I’d rather get the information I need. I’ve no reason to enter the palace.”

“Oh, thank the goddess…” Floyd’s enthusiasm received a sharp kick from Krysta to shut him up. “I mean, take care, yeah? Hope you catch your…whatever. Terrill, we gotta find Torry. Let’s go!”

Just like that, Floyd took off down the causeway to the front gates of the palace. Krysta chased right after. For obvious reasons, Terrill felt. He, however, took the moment to reach out and shake Walter’s hand.

“Be seeing you, then, Walter. Maybe we’ll run into each other after our meeting’s concluded.”

“I’m sure we will. You know, you’d make a fair hunter and mercenary yourself, Terrill.” The two gave a strong shake, and their hands departed. Terrill laughed at Walter’s statement, and then watched as the older man turned down a side street that aimed for the outskirts of the city.

“I’ll pass,” Terrill muttered under his breath. Walter hadn’t heard, but the intention was never there. Realizing he needed to get to the other two before the palace guards arrested them, Terrill began to dash down the path, only for his tracks to slow as he gazed out over the eastern lake. “No way…”

Across the glittering lake that surrounded Palace Invaria, on a street that wound itself around, Terrill saw the familiar blonde tresses of Winifred. His voice caught in his throat, but he was convinced that it was her, stalking the streets unnoticed as she headed for something on the outskirts. Terrill blinked, hoping to make sure he wasn’t crazy, and when he looked up…she was there no more. It didn’t stop his heart from beating wildly.

You’re just tired, Terrill. You know there’s something at work in Invaria and you’re imagining Fiends. Meet with the prince, then get a nice long rest. Yes. Terrill reached up to slap his face a couple times, attracting the curious expression of a nearby guard who pretended to see nothing. Glad he was no longer seeing things, Terrill ran down the remaining length of the causeway to the beautiful, blue palace gates, framed by the streams of water flowing from the sides. Floyd and Krysta were waiting there, the latter more patiently than the former, barred from entering by a pair of guards with spears. Warren was nowhere to be found.

“He went inside. Didn’t say a word,” Krysta said. She didn’t look to be missing him much, and Terrill agreed. Huffing, he grabbed the letter out of his pocket, and like magic, the doors to the palace suddenly swung wide, revealing a manservant, bowing.

“Welcome to Palace Invaria, esteemed ambassadors. General Warren has vouched for you. I believe you have a letter.”

“Right here.” The man reached forth to take it, but Terrill caught his wrist, holding it as gingerly as he could to avoid accusations. “Only for the prince’s eyes.”

“Of course. He is seeing someone in the audience hall. Please, follow me.” The amicable manservant invited them inside, and the guards removed their spears, allowing Floyd to dance over the line with stars in his eyes and a shrugging Krysta after him. Terrill took a single look back, hoping to not take notice of Winifred again. He didn’t, not with the amount of people populating the outskirts and the soldiers running towards an overflow trench. He breathed with relief. Terrill followed inside.

Invaria Palace was just as opulent inside as it was on the outside, perhaps moreso. Actually, Terrill considered it rather impressive, since Floyd managed to shut up as he marveled at the chandeliers and portraits that adorned the walls on the very funneled walk to the audience chamber. The roar of waterfalls could be heard from inside the palace, and down the few passageways that branched from their main hall, Terrill could see even more elaborate fountains. The only one not impressed by the inside was Krysta, who butted up against Terrill with that same expression from earlier.

“Something going on?” he asked, careful to not let the palace’s majordomo hear.

“That ‘Font’ the soldiers mentioned, I think it’s the Lifeblood of Water.” That didn’t surprise Terrill, having guessed as much from the description of it. He hadn’t guessed the second part to Krysta’s definitive statement. “I think it’s sick, too, with the same shadow that corroded the others. I can feel it…that same sensation. That shadow is here.”

Hearing it, Terrill felt like he could sense it, too, as ludicrous a notion as that sounded. Hoping to not believe all of these little coincidences were piling up, Terrill looked to the walls, hoping it would provide something to distract him. All he found were paintings of the royal family and advisors from throughout the generations, and that wasn’t enough to take his mind away while they walked. At best, it was a passing fancy of relatives young and old, and the one that appeared to be Warren’s ancestors, men who looked rather strikingly like their current descendent with the occasional different hairstyle or lack of spectacles. Terrill quickly deemed it boring, and the worry over Krysta’s senses and Winifred’s sighting remained.

“Hey, what’s wrong with you two?” Floyd asked when they’d caught up. The two hadn’t done an adequate job at hiding their concerns, and Terrill knew it was best to explain to Floyd, only for the door to the audience chamber to open. There was no time to explain. Terrill dropped his concern, and replaced it with a grim smile.

The majordomo took point, ushering them to the sides of the halls as a fur-wearing naval officer (judging by his crests) swept from the hall and paid them no mind. Once clear, their guide placed the letter on a plate, and indicated that they should step inside. They did as he asked.

It was showtime.

“May I present His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Ricardo di Invaria. Your Highness, the ambassadors from Valorda.” The manservant swept low in his bow, his hand remaining high with the plate. Terrill took his cue, and also bowed, tugging on Floyd to ensure he did the same. When they straightened, Terrill was surprised to find he had not heard the prince proceed down the carpet, yet standing in front of him was Ricardo, giving Terrill his first good look at the prince.

The surprising part was how young he was. Terrill knew to expect it, with Phillip having mentioned the crown prince being a fledgling royal, but he hadn’t thought that the man in charge of ruling Invaria would be, at most, a couple years older than himself. Ricardo even retained the features of a boy, with rosy, bright cheeks and dark blond hair in curls that Terrill would have guessed at making him fifteen, sixteen at the very most. He wore a deep blue waistcoat with gray pants, and the crest of Invarian royalty was stitched upon his breast: that of a serpentine figure with a sword running through it. The gruesome image was a contrast to Ricardo’s lightheartedness as he took the letter from its plate.

“Thank you, Vincent. You may leave us.” The majordomo rose from his extended bow, and with much shuffling, he exited the audience chamber until the doors slammed shut. Terrill rose. “It is marvelous to meet you. Many, many weeks ago, Phillip sent a letter that he was going to be sending ambassadors, but none ever came. It’s most marvelous that you’ve made it here. Might I have your names?”

However taken aback Terrill was by this overjoyed prince, he still shook his hand in greeting. “Terrill Jacobs, and my companions Krysta and Floyd, from Serotin.”

“Ah, the magic state! We once had a visitor here many years ago, under the rule of my father. She tried to instruct us on how to use our Font correctly, but my father refused. Invaria is built by man’s hands, he always said.” Ricardo dropped the handshake, considering the letter in his hand before he tore the wax seal and perused the contents within. He laughed at one point, while Terrill, Krysta and Floyd watched him with patience. Or as much patience as Floyd could muster; he started tapping the floor at some point. “Ah, I see King Phillip has as much a sense of humor as ever. It’s good to know he can still consider me an ally even during these times of tension.”

“I take it you know King Phillip. His Majesty spoke as much.” Ricardo appeared to register that Terrill and the others were there, stepping back like reading the letter had made him oblivious to his surroundings. Already Terrill was feeling tired. He hoped the prince wasn’t truly as airheaded as he seemed.

“He gave me much advice when I ascended the throne some years back, just as my father had given him advice. We’ve kept a healthy correspondence since, though perhaps not in the last couple years.” Done with the letter, Ricardo returned back up his carpet and sat on the throne at the head of it, a waterfall visible through the window behind him. He tossed the letter to a desk at his side. It put too much distance between them, and Terrill closed the gap.

“Your Highness, then, if you’ll…uh, permit…” Terrill struggled to find the right words to say without being offensive. While Phillip had made it easy in a dungeon cell, this felt far more formal. He was quickly getting tongue-tied.

“Please, speak freely, Master Jacobs. Phillip sent you to discuss our worsening relations. I don’t believe we have time to beat around the bush if we hope to stop a war before either my council or his ministers vote it into action.”

“They’re taking a vote? You mean you’re not in charge of the acts of your own military?!” Krysta’s screech bounced off the walls in a harsh shrill that rang within Terrill’s ears. She apologized, and Ricardo was quick to answer.

“I am insofar as I’m the last one whose ink needs to dry, but neither of our countries are under the province of one man.”

“Weird. Mayor Rainert pretty much runs everything in Serotin.”

“He’s also voted in Floyd, keep up,” Terrill said. His next statement was directed straight for the prince. “In other words, your council is moving to fight a war that no one knows for sure if they’ll win. Given how peace-oriented Phillip made you out to be, why? What would drive you to break a positive relationship with Valorda to go into war?”

“It’s…complicated, but in spite of my stance, I see the reasoning to ensure the continued survival of Invaria.”

“Yeah, well, all I’m worried about is the continued survival of someone your country kidnapped with their Phantom Knight!” Floyd’s yells were too loud, and a movement behind the throne informed Terrill that Ricardo was far from unprotected in these chambers. His knights blended into the blue tapestries bordering the window to perfection, and now they emerged, prepared to run Floyd through if he took so much as another step. To prevent that, Terrill threw his arm out and stopped Floyd from stepping up.

“The Phantom Knight? That blight? We have no affiliation with him, I assure you,” Ricardo said, his lips warbling with this newest information. His gaze turned introspective, but Floyd got even more heated.

“Oh, that’s rich. He kidnapped Torry straight from South Pravado and charged right into your country without anyone standing in his way!”

“Floyd, calm down!” Krysta now stepped in, restraining the boy from behind as his anger and worry got the best of him. “This is a prince. You can’t yell and speak to him like you would Mayor Rainert.”

“I’ll speak to anyone who has a hand in kidnapping Torry.”

“Floyd, he didn’t kidnap Torry. I’m sure of that,” Terrill said to calm him. A hand on Floyd’s shoulder didn’t do much good. Terrill looked to the contemplative prince. “You didn’t kidnap her, right?”

“I would never condone kidnapping for a second!” Ricardo stood off his throne, indignant at the very accusation. Said indignation faded when he’d mulled over their screaming protests. “Rainert? Do you mean to say you’re looking for a relative of the leader of Sagitta?”

“Yeah! Blonde hair, blue eyes. Have you seen her?”

“I haven’t. Invaria does not have strong ties to Sagitta or Serotin, and the only Rainert I ever knew of was an Iris Rainert, but she’s been gone a great many years now to parts unknown.” Ricardo’s frank response made Floyd relax, though it was more of a deflation, indicated by him kicking the carpet. It wrinkled the fabric and no one made a move to fix it before Floyd broke himself from Krysta’s hold.

“This is pointless… I’ll go wait outside.”

“Floyd!” Krysta shouted. He ignored her. “Floyd, you’re an ambassador!”

“Yeah, with what authority? Can’t find Torry, and that Phantom Knight is doing who knows what. I’d rather sit this one out. I’ll go…stare at the water or something.” Now impervious to words, the ever-self-centered Floyd shoved his hands in his pockets and shuffled out of the audience hall. A nod from Ricardo sent one of his guards after the boy, no doubt to escort him safely out of the castle without incident. Terrill and Krysta were alone with their task.

“Your Highness,” Terrill began, hoping to get back on track, “this Phantom Knight…you’re absolutely certain he’s not affiliated with anyone here?”

“That is something I would never allow. Kidnappings and brutal slaughters of towns and ships? It would be beneath us. If we were to take something by force, Invaria would be bold enough to do it with their flag waving behind them, not a dark mask meant to inspire fear.”

“Then what about the other ambassadors Phillip sent that went missing?” This question rocked Ricardo backwards, straight on to the throne as he was hit with the weight of those words. His eyes were wide, an imperceptible shake of the prince’s head showing he didn’t quite believe Terrill. “Your Highness, how much do you trust your people? How much can you?”

The prince had to take a second and think about that. His fingers drummed on the armrest of his throne, his eyes surveying Terrill for any sort of trick or lie. When he found none, he turned his head to the massive window framing the audience chamber, and the rushing waterfall outside. “I trust my council members with my life.”

That made things more difficult.

“However,” Ricardo continued before Terrill could dive deeper into his thoughts, “I can admit that some things have…changed recently. For a while, I thought it was a result of the Font being tainted. With passages to Niveus cut off, and the very waters north of Invaria looking poisoned, people were bound to be worried and on edge. Naturally, talk turned to where we could move if the situation worsened; how to keep Invaria alive.”

“And someone came up with the solution of invasion?” Krysta was speaking with clenched teeth but, unlike Floyd, restrained herself from stepping up to the prince. “You never thought for a moment that perhaps the solution was cutting yourself off from this Font?”

“Invaria has become so ingrained with it over the years, that was not considered an option. Instead, we’ve been forced to look southward…to the Wind Fortress.”

“Thought that was a legend?” Terrill countered, his foot making dull taps upon the carpet while he reasoned the newest information out. “But I guess even a legend provides hope. If your waters had grown unstable, then you’d be looking for alternate means. Why the Wind Fortress? And why the war with Valorda?”

“Because it’s impossible to approach the southern peninsula by sea,” Ricardo said. He was looking more like a well-educated military man the longer he spoke, and Terrill realized he must have been brushing up in preparation for the worst-case scenario. That was making negotiations deteriorate by the second; he could tell. “There are countless jagged rocks and winds that can capsize a ship. The only way to reach it is by land, which means going through Valorda.”

“But what does the Wind Fortress have that you don’t?”

Whatever answer Terrill was expecting, Ricardo’s words weren’t it.

“The ability to make ships fly.”

It was an insane thing to say. Terrill knew that in his mind. Ships flying sounded like a story someone crafted to get Invaria to move towards war. There was no chance anyone could have believed it.

Yet, Terrill felt, he had seen the impossible.

He’d found himself in another world. He’d seen Fiends with powers beyond imagination. He’d seen Lifebloods and portals. So, what was it to find a ship that could fly?

The build behind Invaria’s side of the war now made sense, though it made his head hurt no less.

“So, let me understand. Invaria is moving towards war because your usual naval defenses are failing, and in time, it could cause the destruction of your country. In an effort to circumvent that, you want to invade Valorda so you can get some mystical power to make your ships fly?” Ricardo nodded, smiling at his summary. Terrill didn’t like that one bit. “Didn’t you ever think of fixing your water problems first?”

“We would if we could, but it’s proven impossible. We haven’t been able to get near it since the problems started.”

“And when was that?” Terrill had a feeling he knew the answer.

“Oh, about a month and a half ago? Two months? Something like that.”

Krysta flicked her eyes over, and Terrill understood the significance. Just like the Lifeblood of Fire, it seemed wholly like the Lifeblood of Water had begun to be stained with darkness when the battle with Golbrucht had ended, and he had arrived on the other side. It was a deadly game they were playing, but now Terrill could see the forces converging on Invaria. This was the place to be.

“And the idea of war? Who presented it as an option?”

Ricardo’s forehead wrinkled. His nose pulled closer to his eyes and the smile he’d been wearing dropped off. “My closest military advisor, Warren. But he’s been in the family for ages, as has his family. I trust him wholeheartedly, even if the rumors he brought sounded farfetched. I simply can’t believe Invaria is fated to overtake Valorda and rule Gladius, even with the power over the skies.”

“Fated?” Terrill let the word slip, and Ricardo’s curious expression forced him to get control over himself. It was like Atrum had returned to his mind, with all his talk of defying destiny and asking him to join. And of that damned prophecy that made everyone move in the direction the Fiends wanted. Terrill composed himself. “No more. Your Highness, I don’t know what your general has told you, but-”

The sound of the creaking doors interrupted Terrill before he could get a word out. Behind him, a sweaty soldier marched through the audience chamber while Vincent the majordomo panted after him, yelling for him to stop. The soldier didn’t stop until he was saluting his lord and liege.

“My apologies for the interruption, Your Highness, but urgent news. The Phantom Knight has reappeared in the city, towards the northern reservoir lake.”

“The trenches?” Ricardo stood once again, flapping his jacket behind him as harsh lines set upon his face. “Why would the Phantom Knight appear there? Is this confirmed?”

“I saw him with my own eyes, Your Highness.”

“And Warren. Have you told Warren?”

“He’s-” The soldier attempted to regain his breath while sweat dripped down his lips and into his mouth. “We cannot find the general anywhere.”

The General, huh? Terrill thought, frowning at how many times he’d heard of Warren’s manipulations. That was all they could be, with the amount of moves towards war being made on his suggestions and observations. He was very clearly the snake inside Invaria, and Terrill started to wonder just why he hadn’t made them disappear; allowing them to meet with the prince. The letter alone could not have done it.

“Then I will have to deal with this matter myself. Call the royal guard. I won’t let this wicked knight damage our capital like he did our ships and Pravado.” Ricardo was a man that was all-business now, acting like the king he was meant to be, if not crowned as one. His guard flanked him while he began to leave his chamber, turning back to both Terrill and Krysta. “I’m afraid our negotiations will have to continue another time. I really felt like we were on the verge of a breakthrough, ha ha!”

Terrill didn’t care. His mind was whirring in overdrive, his heart quickening as he began to realize all of the little things.

It wasn’t mere chance that Warren had been the one devising this.

It wasn’t mere chance that they’d gotten through when so many others didn’t.

It wasn’t a delusion that he’d seen Winifred stalking the streets of Invaria, or that the Phantom Knight had somehow shown up here and now.

And most of all, the biggest clue, was that it wasn’t a mistake that Warren had referred to him as a Guardian.

Terrill’s eyes widened, turning to Krysta, and he said without words, in a way only his eyes could convey: Warren was a Fiend.

With that revelation, Krysta came to her own. This, she spoke aloud. “Floyd. Walter.”

The bait had been set in Invaria for the spark of the war to be lit, and their companions were about to spring the trap.